Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of 221b
by AmethystSong
Summary: After the Hound of Baskervilles Sherlock is struck with the idea of patching things up with John with a dog. More specifically, an infamous bulldog puppy. What he did not realize what would come of it as a result.
1. Chapter 1

"Won't be a moment, I've got to see a man about a dog." Sherlock said as he sauntered away. John shook his head and resumed his breakfast. Really, who attempts to drug their flatmate with hallucinogens despite the fact they suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? Oh wait, he was living with Sherlock bloody Holmes. Ah well, added a bit of excitement to life he supposed as long as there were no long term effects. If there were then he would have to have a stern talking to with the consulting detective. It was almost like he was dealing with a child really. 'No Sherlock, you don't do that to your flatmates' or 'Sherlock, you do not say that to children no matter how true it may be, or their parents will threaten to call the Yard and you know Anderson would jump at the chance' was all becoming routine. Still, it was rather unexpected when Sherlock returned with a wriggling bundle in his arms.

"And just what is that?" John asked as he turned to face Sherlock fully. Sherlock frowned,

"I informed you that I had to talk to a man about a dog. The man said it was an English bulldog. He said they made for excellent companions."

"I know what kind of dog it is Sherlock, I used to have one when I was a boy. But I thought you meant, I don't know, you had to shut down an illegal dog ring or something, not just go and buy a dog." John said with a gesture of his hand. Sherlock snorted,

"Well we both know that I can not make a good cuppa or anything of the sort and my other attempts to get back into your good graces have failed spectacularly so I figured this would be a good idea."

"Sherlock, a dog is a lot of responsibility, you actually have to take care of another thing and can't just ignore it." John answered exasperated.

"The skull never complains." Sherlock replied wryly. John sighed and closed his eyes,

"What about when we run off solving crimes? What then? Get your brother to watch it?" Sherlock chuckled,

"The thought of it relieving itself on everything in the Palace and on my brother is certainly a pleasant thought." Sherlock sighed and conceded,

"I am sure Mrs. Hudson wouldn't mind looking after him while we were out. But if you are that uncomfortable with taking care of another living thing then I will take him back. I just thought that you were doing fine job before." John shook his head,

"It's fine, it's all fine. I just wanted you to know what you were getting into before I got attached." Sherlock scoffed and handed the puppy over to John.

"Please, how hard could it be?"


	2. Chapter 2

Part II 

It turns out that owning a dog was a lot harder than Sherlock thought. Apparently there were all these annoying rules of proper ownership. Really you'd think John would have run out of things to say about caring for a dog by now. Sherlock did not understand why John was even telling him about any of this, it's not like he owns the dog.

"Sherlock, are you even listening to me?" John huffed. Sherlock blinked,

"Of course John. You just asked what we should name the dog. Really I am insulted you think I can not multitask, what happened to you calling me brilliant?" John shook his head in exasperation, but gave a small smile.

"It stopped when you decided to try and drug me. So what do you think we should name it?"

"Admit it John, you enjoy the danger. What sort of flat mate would I be if I did not try to drug you every now and then? As for naming the dog, I think we should just call him Dog. Suits him." Sherlock admitted trying to keep a straight face. John snorted,

"I was thinking about naming him Mycroft then." Sherlock chuckled,

"Well he certainly is fat enough to be him. Although you mentioned cake is not acceptable food for dogs and I would hate to tear him away from his one true love." John thought for a moment,

"How about Gladstone then?" Sherlock shrugged,

"He is your dog, name him what you will but I am not adverse to that name." John smiled and rubbed the dog,

"Gladstone it is then yeah?"


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock was currently lounging on the sofa in his dressing gown idly twirling his bow. He groaned in frustration when Gladstone jumped on his stomach and slobbered on him.

"Get off of me. You are disrupting my sulking. I don't know why they say dogs are man's best friend; I am quite content with the skull. At least he doesn't make a mess." Gladstone tilted his head in confusion before laying down on Sherlock. Sherlock thumped his head against the sofa arm.

"You can't even relieve my boredom. All I have deduced is that you've slept nearly most of the day and have hidden John's left shoe. Under the couch hmm? John wouldn't ever think to look there. What to do, what to do?" He mumbled staring at the ceiling before suddenly springing into action, nearly sending Gladstone flying.

"How about an experiment? You can test my new sedative. After all, John never said anything about dogs and drugs. And he won't know the difference considering how much you already sleep. This would seem the only way you'll be useful to me." He said grinning as he placed Gladstone on the floor and began collecting the instruments maniacally with Gladstone trotting merrily along side of him.

When John arrived back at the flat an hour later he was already in a mood. Once again he had trouble at the grocery store and had to leave without his jam. Sherlock it had seemed, had withdrawn the last of their money that week. So you can imagine he was not too pleased at seeing Gladstone passed out on the rug.

"Sherlock! What did you do to the dog!" he yelled dropping down to see if Gladstone was alright. Sherlock's mouth twitched.

"He is just sleeping John." John glared at him,

"He is not sleeping, it feels like he hasn't a pulse." Sherlock chuckled,

"I am surprised you can feel a pulse with the amount of fat rolls he has. Aren't you going to ask how I did it?" John pinched the bridge of his nose,

"I don't care how you did it just fix it and don't ever do it again. God I can't leave you alone can I?" Sherlock sniffed, displeased he wouldn't get to brag. He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and administered it to Gladstone who immediately got up and ran around.

"Well that is rather impressive I suppose." John said grudgingly after a minute. Sherlock shrugged,

"I was bored." John looked at him incredulously,

"I was only gone for an hour! We needed groceries." Sherlock raised an eyebrow,

"Barely, you just went to get jam and milk. The machine gave you trouble again I assume." John huffed,

"No we have no more money. You will have to work a case even if it is boring." Sherlock shook his head.

"What is the point of being a consulting detective if you can't pick your own cases?"

"It doesn't matter, I won't be paid until next week so you will have to do it. It is part of being an adult."

"I guess I can take a case for your jam." Sherlock conceded as John brightened and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good, I am going to take a shower. I'll trust you will leave the dog alone?" Sherlock nodded and grabbed his violin.

"Well at least I know it works. Thank you Gladstone. It would seem you are useful to have around. " Sherlock mumbled quietly as he scratched Gladstone.


End file.
